Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
L iam
The taxi ride to the hotel is silent. I can still feel the shock and hatred burning from Elisabetta’s eyes. I don’t regret having told her that I’m going to be her future husband, but I do wish that she understood that I’d done it for her.
“Are you not going to speak to me for the rest of the trip?”
“I’ll speak to you when we have to talk about business,” she snaps.
I tried to hold in a sigh. I don’t really know what to say in this situation. I know I made the wrong decision. I know that I’ve broken her heart, but I couldn’t keep it in. I couldn’t let her think I’m some good guy because I’m not. I don’t think I’m evil, but I know that she would possibly debate with me about that.
“So, you were just not going to tell me? You were just going to sleep with me and not say a word?” she snaps again.
I look over at her and then toward the front of the cab. A local man is driving, and I can tell that he’s enjoying the conversation by the smirk on his face. I wonder how many tourists he hears arguing, but I can’t worry about that right now.
“Obviously not that’s why…”
“No, you were going to because you brought me here. When did this all happen anyway? I really don’t understand.”
“Can we wait until we get to the hotel and then…” I touch her leg, and she glares at me.
“Get your hand off me.”
“Sorry,” I say, lifting it up. “I just wanted to comfort you. I…”
“I don’t need you to comfort me, Liam, okay? I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, and yeah, I said it. Fuck. F.U.C.K. And I don’t mean in an ‘I want you in my bed tonight' sort of way. I mean, you are a fucking douchebag. How dare you!”
I listen to her and keep my mouth shut. Obviously, she has something to say, and she needs to let it out. I’m going to let her.
“You don’t have anything to say to that?”
“I was letting you speak,” I say. “I thought…”
“You’re such a jackass! Why are you trying to make it seem like you’re doing this for me? Like you’re helping me? You really think this is helping me? You have listened to me go on and on about how upset I am about this, how betrayed I feel, how I’m nervous I’m going to be married off to some old man, how…just everything! I flirted with you, told you that I wanted you to be my last hurrah before I got married, and you knew full well that you were the one I was going to be marrying. What was it? You were going to fuck me here in the Caribbean, and when we got married, it’d be like, ‘Haha, guess we’re fucking again?”
I stare at her and shrug. “I don’t know how to answer that, and I wasn’t marrying you with the intention of…”
“Oh, shut up!” she says, shaking her head. “I’m done with you. Let’s make this clear right here and right now.”
“Okay.”
“I’m not fucking you here in the Caribbean,” she says softly, a sweet smile on her face.
I nod slowly.
“And I’m not going to fuck you when we get married either, so you spent all that money for nothing. I hope you didn’t sign a contract.”
I run my fingers through my hair and shake my head. I’m upset that she’s upset, but I don’t want to voice that. I don’t want any part of her to think that this is about sex. Because it isn’t. I mean, of course, I want to be with her in that way. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. But this is about way more than that, and I don’t know how to explain that to her because I don’t even know how to explain it to myself.
“We’ll be at the hotel in about ten minutes. We can continue talking then.”
“Okay, well, I hope you got me a fucking penthouse suite or something because I’m not staying in a single bedroom in a twin bed or even a queen bed. I want a fucking king-size bed all to myself, and I would like…” She pauses as the taxi driver’s eyes widen.
“You know what? I’m not going to be the one that looks like the jackass here. No, I’m just going to wait until we get to the hotel, and then we’ll continue talking.”
I nod and look out the window. I can hear sniffles coming from Elisabetta. I look over at her in concern. She looks like she’s close to crying. I’ve absolutely devastated her. I feel like shit, but I don’t really know what else to do. I could not have been intimate with her, knowing what I knew. Maybe it was a mistake arranging to marry her. Maybe it was a mistake going through with any of this at all.
I stare at my phone and bring up my emails. Lucinda has sent me the contract from Franco and the dirt that the investigator had brought up. My heart sinks as I realize that there’s another secret Elisabetta doesn’t know, another secret that could possibly devastate her even more than this. And I don’t know how to tell her. I don’t know if it’s my place to tell her. In fact, I already promised her father that I wouldn’t. The entire deal would be off if I reneged. I look out the window and stare at the beautiful coconut trees and the people walking down the street. We pass a market, and I can see luscious mangoes and big, juicy oranges on little tables in front of the locals.
“That’s a good fruit market there,” I say softly. “If you want to get some fresh fruit later, we can walk there from the hotel.”
She gives me a death look. “I will not be walking anywhere with you.”
“Okay, if you would like to walk by yourself, there’s a market there. They also have some local delicacies like tamarind balls and cheese straws and…”
“I’ll figure it out when I go. Thank you.”
“You’ll need some local currency and…”
“Oh, you’re going to give me money now? I guess I really am a paid whore.”
“Elisabetta, please, that is just not…”
“Just not what? It’s not what you were thinking when you came to this arrangement with my dad? Like, what the hell? Was this the plan all along? You were going to come to New York and check me out to see if you really did want to marry me? And then when you saw me, and I presented myself to you on a fucking platter on your bed, you were like, 'Oh, yeah, I could fuck her for a couple of years without having to be in love.’ What? You wanted some heirs for your fortune. Is that it? You want me to be a baby-popping machine?”
I blink and realize that she doesn’t understand how all this came to be.
“I didn’t come to New York with any intentions of marrying you, Elisabetta,” I say, shaking my head. “Let me make that perfectly clear.”
“Oh, so what? You just decided that you wanted to marry me?”
“I decided that…” I pause as the taxi driver pulls over.
“We’re here, sir.” He looks over at Elisabetta. “Madam, can I help you with your bag?”
“Thank you. That would be great,” I say, stepping out of the car. I leave the door open for Elisabetta to get out, but she just gives me a dismissive look and opens the car door on her side.
I sigh as I head toward the front.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Gallagher,” the doorman says as he opens it with a wide smile. “Good to see you again.”
“Good to see you, Jerome,” I say, nodding. I pause because I don’t even know what to call her now.
“I’m Elisabetta Franco,” she says, extending her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too! Girl, you are a nice cup of sweet tea on a hot day.”
She looks over at me and then at him. “I think that’s a compliment,” Elisabetta says.
“Of course, it is. You’re beautiful,” he says in his deep Trini accent. “Very nice to make your acquaintance, madam.”
“Thank you. Nice to meet you, as well.”
“Is this your lady, Liam? I didn’t…”
“I’m his assistant,” she says, clearing her voice. “That’s it. That’s all I’ll ever be.”
I can tell by the cold tone in her voice that it’s going to be a long week. We walk into the hotel and up to the front desk.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Gallagher. Good to see you again.”
“Hi, Lucille. Very nice to see you. Hi, Delores,” I say, calling out to the other front desk agent.
“Hi, Liam. Oops, Mr. Gallagher,” she says, giggling.
“You staying with us for long?”
“No, I’ll just be here for the night, and then we’re flying out. This is Elisabetta, my…”
“Assistant,” she says. “Nice to meet you both.”
“Nice to meet you, too. Must be very nice working for Mr. Gallagher. If I could work for him, I would,” Delores says.
I can tell from the look on Elisabetta’s face that she’s trying not to laugh or snort in disgust.
“Well, I hate to say this, Mr. Gallagher, but we only have one room prepared for you, and we’re all booked out.”
I look over at Elisabetta, and she shakes her head.
“There’s no way in hell,” she says, staring at me. “I am not sharing a room with you. It’s not right and…”
“I can tell you that it is a suite, madam, and there is a couch in the living room area, so Mr. Gallagher”—she gives me a look and smiles—“can sleep on the couch, and you can sleep in the bed.
“I guess that will have to do,” Elisabetta says, nodding. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, madam, though I have to say, if I was Mr. Gallagher’s assistant and I was staying in a hotel room with him, I might want to stay in the same bed, too.” She giggles.
“Ah, don’t make me blush,” I say in response, and she laughs even harder. I can hear Elisabetta groaning next to me.
“Some people find me attractive.”
“The ones who don’t know you,” she says under her breath, and I just smile.
“Here’s your card, and we have your credit card on file. Drinks and dinner will be served this evening at 7:00 p.m. You know where to go.”
“Thank you, and I take it that you’ll check me out automatically? Our flight is early in the morning.”
“Of course, Mr. Gallagher. That’s what we always do.”
“Thank you. Are you ready?”
“What about my bags?” Elisabetta asks.
“They’ll be brought up.”
She nods, and we walk toward the lobby. “Is this the way to the elevator?” she asks me in surprise.
“We’re not going up an elevator,” I say. We take a couple of steps down and walk past the oasis of a pool.
“Wow. It’s beautiful here,” she says, blinking.
“I know. It’s gorgeous, right?”
“It’s okay,” she says quickly.
I give her a small smile and continue walking. “Come on, this way.”
I stop outside an oversized, dark wood door and open it.
“Ladies first,” I say.
“Wow, aren’t you a gentleman?”
She walks inside, and I can see her eyes widening as she looks around. I know that this suite is the best one they have, and it’s amazing. It has dark wood floors and bright, colorful paintings on the wall. There’s a large bamboo fan spinning in the living room area, where a large couch sits across from a TV. There’s a small little kitchen with white marble countertops and a stainless steel Bosch fridge. On the countertop, there’s a bottle of champagne with two glasses, a little note, and some chocolates. Next to that is a fruit bowl with pineapple, some mangoes, oranges, and bananas.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“Are you kidding me?” she says, looking at me. “You think I’m about to drink champagne with you right now so that you can get me tipsy and into bed and make me forget that I just found out that you are disgusting and vile and…”
“Maybe we can discuss this before you continue to call me names.”
“I just think it’s absolutely fucking ridiculous. You weren’t upset on the plane because I called you a grumpy asshole; you were upset because I said that I couldn’t stand anyone who would do business with my father and that I was so glad I got this job because you didn’t have anything to do with him. And you probably felt guilty. That’s why you told me, isn’t it? Not because you wanted me to know; it’s because I made you feel guilty.”
“That is true.” I nod. “But I didn’t come to the States to marry you. One hundred percent, on my life.”
“Okay, what are you? A cat with nine lives because you’re telling a lot of lies to me, Liam.”
“I’ll give you that. I haven’t exactly been truthful about everything, but I haven’t actively lied. Look, your father owns some hotels in Greece and Italy that I’ve been interested in purchasing for a long time. He finally let me know he was willing to sell them to me. I figured it was because he was having financial difficulties. I didn’t realize it was to this extent,” I say quickly.
She glowers at me.
“He told me that he had a very independent daughter he was very interested in seeing get married and that he wanted to introduce her to some eligible bachelors because he wanted to get her to Italy.”
“That’s me. You can say my name.”
“Yes, it’s you, obviously. He wanted to ensure that you got to Italy this summer. He said he had a feeling that you weren’t as excited about the ball he was going to throw for you, so he wanted to give you some incentive.”
“And, what? Working for you was meant to be the incentive? How?”
“Because I was meant to be a dickhead.” I stare at her. “I was meant to be such a bad boss that you would welcome the vacation.”
“What?” She blinks at me. “I don’t understand how…”
I let out a deep sigh. “When Skye, your best friend, got the job at the firm, he realized it was the same firm that I did business with.”
“Wow,” she says, “I guess that’s my fault for telling him about Skye’s new job.”
“It’s obviously not your fault, Elisabetta, but once he realized that she was then dating one of the partners and the firm very much valued my business, he and I came up with an idea to try and see if I could get you to work for me. He said that you loved Skye like a sister, so I wanted to ensure that working for me was the worst job she’d ever had and that, hopefully, you would take her place.”
“How the hell would you know that was going to happen?” she says, shaking her head. “That doesn’t even make sense. I only volunteered because I was there the day that you were trying to get them to work for you again. What if I wasn’t there? What if…”
“There were a lot of what-ifs. There were obviously plans that would have been followed if this didn’t work.”
“Like what?”
“Like I was to ingratiate myself in Skye’s life and perhaps date you for a little bit. Make you so upset that you’d run off.”
“So, what? It was your plan to fuck me and hurt me?”
“I never would have slept with you,” I say honestly. “I would never sleep with someone for business.”
“Oh, but you’d marry them? Really? You think that I’m going to believe that, Liam?”
“I can understand if you don’t want to believe it, but I am wholeheartedly telling the truth. When I saw you and realized how beautiful you were, what a spitfire you were when I talked to you, I started to grow to really enjoy your personality. I knew that you were someone that I wanted to be around, that I wanted to do things with.”
“Oh, okay, so what? You saw me and said, ‘Oh, yeah, I wouldn’t mind fucking her, so I’ll continue?’”
“That’s not how it went. Please, Elisabetta, please just believe me.”